It’s not that I’m addicted to cigarettes, it’s that I buy them before the children do. So you see, I’m not really a degenerate, I’m a savior to the people. You who wish to judge me forget that I stand between Big Tobacco and your newborn, Tobias. My selfless nature has nothing to do with how the paper burns; that fiery undressing in mass heat and flame, a smoldering ember of ecstasy. I’m an all-encompassing force, a nuclear reactor powered by the euphoric conflagration of limitless cigarettes—consumed solely on behalf of others.
When I smoke, I ensure the poor medical student will have a job someday. I ensure the single father of four with kids to feed will be employed by the pharmaceutical industry. And yet, despite my sacrifice, my habits they still call unhealthy. My mother, father, older brother all with beliefs aligned against me. I hear their words, but cast them aside: one does not merely switch between night and day.
Yet do I falter in the face of ignorance? No, never. While some may fear the inexorable march of time and the differences which separate us, I alone stand tall. I’m a guerilla rebel, overthrowing the oppressive circadian rhythms that trap humanity.
For opposing the forces which threaten to consume us, I accept no prize. I do this not for me, but for those who have not the strength to fight by my side. You can thank me…but there is no need. It was never my choice. I was put here by design, and so the wheel turns.
The divinity on which I walk, neither blessing nor curse. A McDonald’s drive-thru where friends come to dine. It called me when I was lost, yet I was forbidden entry. My invisible car and dreams of a Big Mac utterly extinguished.
But there he sat. Shapeless, blurred, radiating in the cold night. A homeless man, poised with dignity, a fallen deity. In my time of need he gave me a cigarette. Wrinkled, browned; utterly dilapidated. The forsaken Marlboro Red which found its way to me was no mirage. It was reality’s true form, revealed to my disbelieving eyes. And so another night passes and I step outside. My laptop inside glows with 30 open tabs, and I formulate the sublime while battling chess masters across the globe. I find my seat on the patio, the old straw chair. My own throne and shrine, a companion in the darkest times. And I light a cigarette.▲
